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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29355663">the drumbeat of your heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_trash_15/pseuds/i_am_trash_15'>i_am_trash_15</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>random schlangst aus [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Garage Band, Band Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Jschlatt Angst (Video Blogging RPF), M/M, Manipulation, STG, Schlatt Angst, Suicide Attempt, They're All A Little OOC, am i the only one who uses the schlangst tab?, but they dont really realize theyre doing it until its too late, oh well, schlangst, schlatt is such a simp in this, seriously?, the tags were light and now they arent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:41:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,554</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29355663</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_trash_15/pseuds/i_am_trash_15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I spent too long on this.</p><p>Schlatt and Wilbur were in a band together in High School, before Schlatt had to leave the band under some rather suspicious circumstances. Now, Schlatt is back in Wilbur's life. Can Wilbur find a way to forgive him?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jschlatt/Wilbur Soot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>random schlangst aus [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2134968</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>134</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the drumbeat of your heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>super duper self indulgent</p><p>my schlangst-needing mind back at it again</p><p>sorry not sorry</p><p>it's lowkey out of order, a bit, but hopefully you can understand.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Junior year of high school, Wilbur started a band with a few of his musically-inclined friends. He was the lead singer, of course, but he also played guitar. He got his friend Niki to play the piano, Schlatt to play the drums, and a few others to fill in whenever necessary with other instruments. Niki and Schlatt also sang some of the songs with him, and Schlatt drove the band van, which was really just some beat-up old van that he bought and painted to look like the </span>
  <em>
    <span>shittiest</span>
  </em>
  <span> stereotypical garage band van you could think of. Everyone very affectionately called it ‘the band wagon’.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Schlatt loved being a part of the band. He had a lot of fun. He got to play drums, he got to see Wilbur, he got to drive his shitty old van. He loved it a little less when Wilbur began appearing to date Niki. Schlatt couldn’t stand that. He would do anything for Wilbur, and he chose the little soft, helpless girl over the person who would give him the world if only it was his to give. He knew it shouldn’t have, but he grew cold against Niki. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To hide his infatuation with Wilbur, he started fake-dating Minx, who had a bad crush on Niki, and felt equally scorned. But he hated it. The divide. He still had an obligation to the band, he still had to play the drums, so he tried asking his parents what to do about the whole situation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He must have read the room wrong or something, because he learned that day that apparently there were people that he wasn’t supposed to love, and Wilbur was one of them. They ordered him to step down from being in the band, or else there would be consequences.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next day, he came up to Wilbur, announcing that he had had a recent shift in genre preferences, and he found difficulty playing the songs they normally play. Wilbur had thought for a moment, before smiling and saying he was sure they could come to some sort of compromise. Schlatt had smiled back, saying he would get back to him about it. He went home that day, and his parents, very impatiently, asked him if he was out of ‘that goddamn band’. He had to answer no, and the look of fury on their faces would forever haunt him, even after they did what they did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had to show up to school the next day, arm aching, and tell his band that he had broken his arm and could no longer play. Then he was to cut off all communication with Wilbur Soot, and if he didn’t, his parents threatened, his shoulder would be next. So he did. He left the band, he stopped talking to Wilbur, and Minx actually got to be with Niki.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Schlatt would pass Wilbur in the hall sometimes, and the man used to smile at him and try to start up a conversation, but he could disappear when he blinked. Then he started the glaring. It would make sense that he was mad. He had every right to be. Then, towards the end of the school year and all throughout Senior year, Wilbur wouldn’t even look at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Schlatt could feel himself spiraling. He had literally nothing to look forward to. His parents made him isolate from literally every one of his former friends, just because of his little crush on Wilbur. “They’re links to him,” they would say, a disappointed scowl on their faces. Schlatt just wanted to talk to his friends again. At this point, he would risk the pain. He was just so alone. But he tried, once, and they didn’t want to talk to him. They had every right not to. So he buried his lonely feelings, ignoring the pain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After Senior year, Schlatt’s parents got him a job for the family business, and he did surprisingly well at that. He was born to do business. He would drum his fingers on the desk while he worked, though, and had to fight to stop that habit after several well-placed glares from his father. Anything related to the band he used to be in would always end in pain, be it mental or physical.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He worked the most scuffed hours, from six in the morning to six at night, far from the ‘regular nine-to-five’ that he heard about in movies. Still, it became routine. He worked at the family business for a few years, living for work and nothing else, too wrapped up in his work to even notice the sadness that followed him when he thought about what could have been. So he didn’t. He focused so intently on his work that he didn’t have time to think about feelings. When he did, he was just miserable. So he didn’t.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nobody cared if he never felt anything around them. It was a business. Everyone is stone-cold here, anyway. He didn’t care about them, they didn’t care about him. He almost wished someone would, but he knew that would just make things harder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then, when he was twenty years old, something finally happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur and the band were doing great. What was left of the original band was just him, but that was fine. He had gotten new members. His brothers loved being in a band. There was Tommy with the brass instruments, Techno with the strings, Tommy’s friend Tubbo on the piano, and some drummer that they had found. His name was Jared. Wilbur, of course, was still on the guitar and vocals.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The band was doing great. They had another concert in about a month, and plenty of time to prepare.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Until Jared came in complaining that he fucked up his arm. He couldn’t play. He tried, once, and ended up whining like a crybaby. Wilbur rolled his eyes and let him leave. This was just fantastic. He rubbed his forehead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was fine. It was fine! They had just under a month, they could get someone to fill in. Wilbur started calling up drummers that he knew. All of them were busy. Wilbur sighed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you call that drummer that used to be in your band?” Techno suggested. Schlatt. Wilbur groaned. He really did not want to call Schlatt. The man ghosted him for a year, after being friends for so long. Had he found out that Wilbur kind of liked him? Probably not. Wilbur groaned again, and called his number, hoping he still had the same one. This was his last choice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The phone rang once, twice, before the other end picked up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is Schlatt,” the man said. He had such an objective and official tone. Wilbur wasn’t expecting that. He was almost hoping that he had ended up in some dead-end place so that Wilbur could say he told him so, but from the sound of it, there was no such luck. “Hello?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Schlatt. This is Wilbur. Wilbur Soot. From the old band,” Wilbur said. There was a long pause on the other end, followed by some shuffling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What can I do for you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have a concert coming up this month.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really? Congratulations, I always knew you’d go far.” Schlatt’s tone sounded too formal. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But I’ve run into a bit of a hitch.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My drummer is out with a hurt arm, we don’t know when he’ll get back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so this is a favor. Okay, uhh, I’d rather talk about this in person, if it’s all the same to you.” Wilbur rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course you would. When are you available?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can actually meet up tonight, sometime after six-thirty.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That works. Can you meet me at the studio?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Same one?” Schlatt asked. He was writing something down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Same one,” Wilbur confirmed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, then, I will see you tonight.” The conversation ended, and Wilbur felt hopeful and angry at the same time. How dare Schlatt be somewhere successful? How dare he be the only drummer available? Nevertheless, they had a drummer. The show could go on.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt was fucked. He was so, so fucked. He knew what would happen if his parents found out! And yet, the second Wilbur called, he was ready to drop everything for him. He had to make it seem like it was casual, though. Like he didn’t actually want to. He came up with a few conditions, and he sorted out his schedule as to when he could practice. He was so not ready to face Wilbur for the first time in years, but he had to be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, if he played his cards right, he could make this an easy transition. He scrolled through his old song list, deciding on one with the message he wanted to send Wilbur. It was about having a really rough life, wanting to end it all. He couldn’t say anything outright, especially not to his parents, they would just laugh. He didn’t want to outright say it to Wilbur, it would seem fake. But. If he did this right, then maybe someone would care.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur waited just inside the front door for Schlatt to arrive. A car pulled into the parking lot, and parked. A man in a rather crisp black suit stepped out of the car, smoothing out his clothes and locking the car before turning to walk to the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Wilbur,” Schlatt said when he opened the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You look like a right prick in that suit, I hope you know that. This isn’t a date, Schlatt,” Wilbur rolled his eyes. Schlatt laughed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do, don’t I? No, I agree, not a date. Just got off work. We’re all supposed to wear suits there. Bit suffocating, these suits, if you ask me.” He loosened his tie a bit and took off his jacket, draping it over his arm. “So what now? Details?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Details. You said you could fill in for our drummer until he either gets back or until after the concert, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Correct. I’ll have to get back in the rhythm of playing, I haven’t played in a while, but it’s like riding a bike.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fantasic.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have got some conditions, though,” Schlatt said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, of fucking course you do. What are they?” Wilbur asked. Typical Schlatt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We have to play one song of my choosing.” Wilbur grumbled. “Nothing terrible, don’t worry. Just one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine, but you have to sing it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Done deal. That’s fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s your other condition?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want a favor.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I don’t know yet. I want a favor I can call at any minute.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, fuck no. I don’t want anything you can hang over my head.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, that’s the deal. Take it or leave it. If I had to guess, Wilbur, I’d say I’m the last person on your list.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ohh, you are a prick. Nothing too overboard, alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Guhh, fine. Deal.” Wilbur stuck out his hand to settle the deal. Schlatt took it and shook it firmly, once, before letting go. Very professional, that one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So show me around. Who are the new members of your band? Niki still here?” Schlatt asked, looking around.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. She isn’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You two break up or something? I’m sorry.” Curse him for sounding genuine. Wait, did he say break up? No!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, what? We were never dating! That was a publicity stunt. She was dating Minx.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Heh, right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Course, you would have known that if you’d’ve stuck around,” Wilbur bit. Why did he feel bad when Schlatt turned away from him and rubbed his arm? They walked to where everyone practiced, and Schlatt walked over to the drum set, sitting down on the stool and placing his jacket on a nearby table. He picked up the drumsticks and looked at Wilbur.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You think what’s-his-face’ll mind if I move some things around?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jared? Probably.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, he’s not here. You guys got like, duct tape or anything?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uhhh…” Wilbur rummaged around in a bin, finding two different colors and a marker. He set all of them near Schlatt, who started putting down tape where Jared’s placements were. Then he started moving everything around, sitting occasionally to see if it was where he wanted it. Wilbur watched, entranced. He said he hadn’t done drumming in a while, and sure, it showed, in the way he sometimes second-guessed his placements, but it was extremely interesting to watch. Schlatt finally seemed happy with his placements, and taped off in a different color where those were. He looked up to see the rest of the band staring at him. Wilbur looked around. He should probably introduce Schlatt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Guys, this is Schlatt. He’s the substitute drummer,” Wilbur explained. Schlatt gave a little wave, standing up. “Schlatt, this is Tommy, Tubbo, and Techno.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nice to meet you all, I look forward to working with you.” Short and sweet. Schlatt has changed a lot. He used to never shut the fuck up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, the band went into another room as Schlatt sat down to get back into the swing of things.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So is he even any good?” Tommy asked, looking at Schlatt mess with the drumsticks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He used to be. He said that he hadn’t played in a while, but he used to be the best I’ve ever known. Then he quit,” Wilbur said, the last words dripping with venom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Most drummers don’t move everything around, why does he? He like, completely reorganized everything,” Tubbo said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t… Oh, do you know what, it’s probably because he’s left handed. He just likes it a certain way. Everything shifted toward his dominant hand.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That makes sense, actually.” They all watched. Schlatt was testing the waters, drumming out an easy rhythm on each of the drums. He had headphones in, listening to a song. He messed with his phone, probably to press the next button. He started going faster and faster on the drums until he felt like he was used to them, when he put away his headphones and picked up the sheet music, looking it over, just reading it. Wilbur came back into the room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey. These the songs you guys doing?” Schlatt asked. Wilbur nodded. The american took a folded up piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to him. Wilbur unfolded it. There was sheet music.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The song you picked?” Schlatt nodded. “Where are the lyrics?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, well you said I had to sing it, thought I would keep you in the dark a bit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anyone ever told you you’re a smartass prick?” Wilbur asked. Schlatt’s grin split his face in two.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All the time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy, Tubbo, and Techno ended up leaving at around midnight, and Schlatt ended up taking Wilbur home at around two. The ride home was awkward. Wilbur was still really kinda bitter that Schlatt had ghosted him like that, but now he was back, and there was no way he could get Schlatt to leave without completely dooming the concert.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before Wilbur left, he got a rough schedule of when Schlatt could be there. Pretty much every day after six in the evening, and he could stay until two in the morning at the latest. Except Sundays. Sundays he could be there at one o’clock in the afternoon, until around midnight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so it went. Schlatt would show up after six, stay until two in the morning, sometimes the band would stay with him, then leave to show up again the next day. The second day he was there, he’d brought a change of clothes. Some random graphic sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants with his old timberland boots and a Yankees cap, just like how he used to be in high school. The rest of the band thought he was fantastic, and seemed to forget the fact that Wilbur was determined to hate him for ghosting him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>About a week before the concert, Schlatt finally revealed the lyrics to Wilbur.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I changed my mind. We don’t have to do the song,” he said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What, getting cold feet?” Wilbur taunted. He had been warming up to Schlatt’s presence, but he maintained the impression that he hated him in front of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whatever helps you sleep better, dude.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. He looked almost tired. Not that Wilbur cared.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s the real reason?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess I felt bad about making you jump through all these hoops just to get a drummer, I did it to give you a hard time, and I was an ass. You were desperate enough to agree and I shouldn’t have taken advantage of that.” Wilbur blinked. Was that a… a genuine apology?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no. Fuck you for trying to be a genuine person. We’re doing the fucking song.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wilbur. I’m sorry. Was what I was trying to say. For… years ago. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Sure.” Wilbur shrugged, unconvinced.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay. That’s fine.” Wilbur almost hated how defeated Schlatt sounded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next day, six days until the concert, Jared came back, his wrist better.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you believe it? It wasn’t actually broken! Just sprained! Thank god, because the doctor said that if I had, I wouldn’t be able to play right for a long time without it hurting.” Then his eyes turned to Schlatt. “Who’s this guy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is Schlatt. He was gonna fill in for you if you couldn’t make it,” Wilbur explained.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well I can.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, then, Schlatt. Can you still drive the van?” Wilbur asked, not actually expecting him to say yes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure, I can drive the van,” Schlatt agreed. Wilbur ignored the way he rubbed at his wrist anxiously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur ignored the way Schlatt couldn’t seem to concentrate, he ignored the way he always seemed tired.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Except he didn’t. He noticed everything, he just did nothing. He didn’t care about the man, why should he do anything? But the more he did nothing, the more he regretted it. He pondered everything for another four days, until it was the day before the concert.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trouble had struck. Tommy and Jared had never gotten along well, and apparently Jared had gotten a new opportunity to be in a new band, he had just been waiting until after the concert. But Tommy had gotten on his last nerve, and he stormed out in a fury, shouting that they can all be damned, he quit. Wilbur groaned. What were they going to do?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So… should we call Schlatt back?” Tubbo asked. He had been out that day, it wasn’t yet six.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess.” He ignored the way that he was glad that Schlatt would play with them. Techno had disappeared. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno reappeared, Schlatt trailing behind him, a little while later.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s up?” Schlatt asked casually.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jared quit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I heard, I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So do you want to play the drums tomorrow?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure. Was gonna take off work tomorrow, anyway, for it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cool, cool. Wait, you have work?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, why the fuck do you think I only show up after six?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. Huh. Well, come on, we’re doing last minute practice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Schlatt trailed after him, following him to the band room. He took a moment to rearrange the drums after Jared had moved them back, before they jumped right into practice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A few hours later, they all decided to leave to get some rest before the big day. Before Schlatt left, Wilbur stopped him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Schlatt, I’ve been meaning to ask, are you inviting anyone to the concert?” Wilbur asked. Schlatt chuckled awkwardly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I am not.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. huh.” He let Schlatt leave. Perhaps he should surprise the man. The next morning, just before Schlatt was due to arrive at the studio to help load up his van, Wilbur called Schlatt’s parents and told them about the concert, but decided to surprise them as well by not telling them Schlatt was playing. They said they’d be there, and he hung up the phone. He did a good thing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone loaded up the van and piled in. Schlatt put in the aux cord and started playing some shitty music that everyone had known forever, yet never at all. He drove to the concert venue, laughing along to everyone in the car singing along, even Techno, who was just having fun. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They arrived, and set up their stuff, tested it to make sure everything was alright, and then waited.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soon, it was almost time to start. Wilbur drank some tea in the corner, Tommy and Tubbo were laughing amongst themselves, Techno was reading, and Schlatt was peeking through the corner to see how many people there were. Wilbur watched him look at the crowds of people anxiously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Schlatt, you performed like this before?” he asked. Schlatt turned back to face him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, no.” He turned back, peeking through the curtain again. Then, suddenly, he froze. “Say, Wilbur, did you invite anyone I know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I did. I thought it would be cool if your parents got to see you perform, so I invited them,” Wilbur chirped. “Don’t worry, I left the fact that you’re playing as a surprise.” Schlatt’s hands were shaking as he closed the curtain. As he turned back towards Wilbur, the brit could see how pale he’d gotten just now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t fucking do this, holy shit.” the american ran a shaky hand down his face, taking a deep breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well you can’t back out now, either,” Wilbur warned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, you don’t fucking understand, I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I understand just fine, Schlatt. You’re getting cold feet, Schlatt. Just like you did back when we were actually friends. Like you did when you were still a part of the band.” Wilbur’s words were filled with venom, and by the look on Schlatt’s face, they stung. Wilbur walked towards Schlatt. “You gonna back out again, Schlatt?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, but-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But what?” Wilbur grabbed Schlatt’s arm, and he immediately jerked it away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> touch me,” Schlatt hissed. Wilbur backed away, not expecting that reaction. Schlatt held his arm close to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine, whatever. What were you gonna say?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was going to ask,” he started, in a scarily controlled tone, “if you could get someone to get them to leave.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? No! That would seem so rude! I literally invited them. Besides, they’re your parents, why don’t you want them to see you perform?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nevermind. When are we on?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ten minutes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” Schlatt disappeared, leaving Wilbur very confused. What was that all about? Something about him wasn’t adding up. Schlatt got back with two minutes to spare, still slightly pale, but not shaky. Why did Wilbur feel bad that Schlatt wouldn’t look him in the eye?</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt had been in a downward spiral all week. The entire month that he had gone on minimal amounts of sleep was catching up to him, and Jared coming back to push Schlatt to the side just made his spiral even worse. It felt like he was constantly drowning. He went out on the roof to think that night, laying in the cold, letting it sink into his bones. Techno had come up to the roof.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the heck are you doing out here? It’s freezing!” He’d said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a nice night,” Schlatt said simply.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aren't you cold?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter if I am. What are you doing out here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Looking for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why, you guys need a ride somewhere or something? From your personal fuckin taxi service?” he couldn’t help the bite in his words. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. I came for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You looked sad.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What would you care?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, we’re your friends, Schlatt.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. I’m a replacement. You're friends with Jared.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jared just quit. One of his buddies offered him a better deal.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don't have to just say that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I'm serious. So, if you still want to play with us, then the spot is yours. Otherwise, Jared can deal with us until the concert is over.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Take your time. Hey, can I ask you something?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why did you leave the band the first time? I get the feeling that this is something you really enjoy, you wouldn’t quit just because of a shift in genres,” Techno said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well then you’re certainly more observant than most,” Schlatt murmured.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What was the reason?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My wrist was broken.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It would have healed. You gave up drumming completely. Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... you can't tell anyone. I mean it. If you really wanna know, you have to promise.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I promise.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m gay, right, and my parents are like, the most homophobic people I know.” Techno had nodded, “and they found out that the person I was in love with was in the band. So they made me quit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who was it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t matter. They were dating someone else anyway, I wouldn’t have had a chance. I started dating Minx, too, to appease the parents and because she was gay, too, so it worked out. She had her secret gay relationship, and I could pretend to be straight. Then after I left the band, she and her girlfriend came out, and so there wasn’t a need for me to be associated with the band anymore.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Minx’s girlfriend was in the band? There was only one other girl in the band.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Niki, yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who was dating Wilbur. And now the original members of the band are just Wilbur.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Schlatt said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You liked Wilbur, didn’t you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It hurt, so much. Even before I quit, I knew that I could never have him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you liked him, why did you cut contact with him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I cannot even begin to explain. You're a good listener, Techno, but I really don’t wanna talk.” He guessed he looked sad, because Techno patted him on the shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I won’t make you. At least come back inside though, it's freezing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Funnily enough, I don't even feel it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on inside.” Reluctantly, Schlatt followed Techno in, agreeing to play in the concert.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The time came, and the band went out on stage. Schlatt kept a wary eye on his parents, but thankfully they were focused on Wilbur.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>God, Wilbur. He’d been </span>
  <em>
    <span>such</span>
  </em>
  <span> a dick lately, but Schlatt couldn’t hate him. As horrible as Wilbur made Schlatt feel, he missed him so much when he wasn’t around. But his guilt got the better of him, and he tried to apologise and take back the fact that they had to play one song of his choosing. He decided he really did not want Wilbur finding out. He didn’t want to see the look of disappointment in Wilbur’s eyes when he found out the meaning behind the lyrics.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Schlatt’s parents were there. Wilbur had invited them. Schlatt was a dead man. If not by his own hand, then by theirs, he was sure of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he put on a brave face and went out with the band anyway, because Wilbur asked him to. What he wouldn’t give just to make sure that Wilbur had what he wanted. He already gave up any shred of a normal sleep schedule for him, so why not give it all? He was dying anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh, what he wouldn’t give for Wilbur Soot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had gone through the first few songs with Schlatt’s body on autopilot. The old break on his arm from years ago had reared its head with a vengeance, giving him grief about it for the past month. He knew it wasn’t good, but Wilbur needed him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was time for his song now, the last song of the night. How very fitting, for a song about goodbyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His parents finally noticed him, and their smiles turned to glares quicker than he could blink. He smirked defiantly back, despite himself, and adjusted his mic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The song went off without a hitch, the only noticeable thing wrong would have been a slight tremor in his voice occasionally, but no one noticed. Least of all Wilbur, who was drinking in the attention. Good. Wilbur deserved all the good things.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur noticed Schlatt’s parents towards the end. They had stopped smiling at Wilbur as soon as they saw Schlatt, who was about to do his song. Wilbur had heard it so many times that it wasn’t even registered in his ears until the end, when Schlatt’s voice was a little weaker than it was in practice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, but this is goodbyyeeee,” he sang the last line, the music coming to an end instrument by instrument. The crowd cheered, and they all took a bow as the curtain fell. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Backstage, they loaded back up their things, talk of the afterparty floating around them. It was at some random dude’s house, he had probably only invited them to look cool in front of his friends. Still, they were going. Wilbur finished putting his guitar in its case, going to help put away the other technical stuff. He looked over at Schlatt, who was putting his drums in the van and loading up various other things. He looked pale in the face again. Wilbur walked over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Great job, dude, you did great!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Wil.” He sounded quiet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everything alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yea, I guess I just feel a bit nauseous.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. It’s probably adrenaline.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Heh. Yeah. You did great, by the way. They loved you,” Schlatt said, a smile that looked a tad forced finding its way onto the american’s face. He clapped the brit on the back and resumed loading up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Wilbur beamed. They continued loading things up, and when they were nearly done, their flow was interrupted by a couple storming in. Schlatt froze upon seeing them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on, we’re going home,” Schlatt’s parents said firmly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have to help load up,” Schlatt excused himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well then hurry up and let’s go.” They smiled politely at Wilbur. “Great show, by the way,” they said, their praise hollow and fake. He returned a polite smile, helping Schlatt load up the rest of the stuff.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got to run this stuff back to the studio, and then we have the afterparty, right, Wilbur? I’ll be home after that.” Schlatt looked up at Wilbur for him to back him up, but he didn’t catch the hint.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s okay. You can go with them, Schlatt,” Wilbur said, still oblivious as to why Schlatt suddenly wanted to go to the party when he hadn’t seemed like he had all night.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no, I’ve got an obligation to the band, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean, not really, you’re just a stand-in, and you never seemed to have a problem leaving the band before.” WIlbur hadn’t meant to say that. Schlatt looked beyond betrayed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Son, they don’t need you,” Schlatt’s father said, the word ‘son’ coming across as a little venomous. Wilbur arched an eyebrow, why was he only just now catching the tension between Schlatt and his parents?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Schlatt turned and handed the keys to his van to Techno, who nodded at him. Schlatt turned back and walked over to his parents, muttering ‘goodbye’ as he passed Wilbur. Why did it seem more final? Like he was actually saying goodbye? Wilbur didn’t have time to ask before Schlatt was gone, he and his parents. A hand was on his shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was a dick thing to say. He’s trying,” Techno muttered. Wilbur sighed. He knew. Why did he know too late?</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The night of the concert, Schlatt had been genuinely excited. That was, until he saw his parents in the crowd, and had to very actually fight himself to not have a panic attack right then and there. Instead, he made some lame excuse about going to the bathroom, and went and panicked in peace. He calmed himself down after a minute, going back out at the perfect moment. No time to back down now. Time to accept the consequences.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But </span>
  <em>
    <span>man</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Wilbur must really hate him to not only invite his parents, but also disregard every excuse he tried to make to not go with them after the concert. He didn’t even seem to notice the cry for help written in the song. He whispered a final goodbye to Wilbur, knowing that if he survived the night, then that would definitely be the last he saw of the tall brit. Wilbur didn’t want to see him. They were not even friends, that much had been made clear to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sat in the backseat of his parents’ car and listened to them yell. It did not matter anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur was having a fun time at the party. Well, it wasn’t the best party he’d ever been to, but it was at least a way to pass the night.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then his phone rang. He checked the caller id. Why was Schlatt calling him? He ignored it. Then the phone rang again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? I’m at the party!” Wilbur grumbled into the speaker.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know. I’m sorry. Could you come pick me up?” Schlatt’s voice was barely audible. Wilbur went outside, where it was quieter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just drive, man.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I gave the van to Techno, remember? Besides, I didn’t drive here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then walk.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They won’t let me go if I don’t have a ride, Wilbur. Can you please just come get me?” Schlatt’s voice was tired, and Wilbur just knew that Schlatt was rubbing the bridge of his nose, as he would do when he was exasperated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I can’t, I’m at the party. Call someone else.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine, you absolute prick. I’m calling in that favor,” Schlatt said, and Wilbur froze. He owed Schlatt a favor, they had agreed on it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you. Fine. Where are you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... The police station.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, my god, Schlatt, why. Don’t drag me into this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you just get me.” Schlatt spat into the phone, a tone that Wilbur hadn’t heard on him in a long time. The whole month that they had been playing together again, Schlatt had kept his tone under control, so this sudden shift shocked Wilbur. Then a quiet “I’m sorry,” came through the receiver.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let me tell the guys where I’m going,” Wilbur sighed. A sound of relief came through the phone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” Wilbur hung up, and went to find Techno. He told his brother what he was doing, and then left the party. It was a quiet drive there, and when he arrived, Schlatt was waiting outside with a police officer, who patted him on the back as Schlatt stood to leave. They shared a few words, before waving goodbye. Schlatt got in the car. Schlatt did not try to fake a smile or start a conversation this time, simply sitting passively in the car. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where do you need to go? Home?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, you can just drop me off at a bus station. Nearest one is beside the bridge.” Schlatt supplied. Wilbur started the car.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So what did you do?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, I am so glad that the people I surround myself with expect the worst of me. Thank you for assuming that it was my fucking fault I was at a police station at,” he checked his watch, “two in the morning.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome. So why were you there?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My father’s been arrested. They just wanted me to answer a few questions. I don’t wanna go into it right now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, what? What happened?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you not hear the second part of that sentence? I don’t wanna go into it right now,” Schlatt insisted. Wilbur huffed, but dropped it. They fell into silence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey Wilbur?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Schlatt?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you hate me?” Schlatt was looking at him for the first time since he’d gotten in the car, and he could really see the bags under the man’s eyes. There was an angry-looking bruise forming under one of them, and Wilbur found himself wondering how he didn’t notice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. I dont. Why do you ask?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I dunno. I guess it just feels like you do. I wouldn’t be surprised or anything. That would be completely understandable. I mean, I never give you my reasons, I dragged you away from the party, I made you deal with me for longer than you wanted to, I’ve overstayed my welcome, I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Schlatt. I don’t hate you. That was just me being an asshole. I’m sorry I made you think that I hated you.” Wilbur’s heart sank at the man’s words. Schlatt nodded, but he still looked conflicted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulled up beside the bus stop by the bridge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I ask you a question?” Wilbur asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You just did.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut the fuck up. Why did you leave the band, the first time? And don’t give me any bullshit about the switching genres.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I broke my arm.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then why did you start ghosting me? That doesn’t need an arm.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s complicated.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well try.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t want to hear it. You didn’t want to hear what I had to say, then, and you definitely don’t, now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then why didn’t you tell anyone else?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All of our friends turned out to be just your friend, Wilbur. None of them would listen to me!” Schlatt defended.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could have made them listen.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wilbur, not one of the people I thought I could call a friend was willing to actually be my friend. In theory, yes. Not so much in practice, eh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well then you should have picked better friends,” Wilbur bit out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I should have,” Schlatt said, looking Wilbur dead in the eye.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why did you leave the band the first time?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have a nice night, Wilbur.” Schlatt started opening the car door, but Wilbur locked the doors. Schlatt sighed, unlocking it again. Wilbur reached over and grabbed Schlatt’s arm to get him to stop leaving. Again, Schlatt jerked back. “You don’t want to hear it, Wilbur. Have a nice time at the party. Goodbye.” The way he said his farewell sounded so final, like they would never see each other again. It hurt Wilbur more than he would ever admit aloud.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Schlatt got out, and Wilbur glared at him for a second before driving away. As he drove across the short bridge, he got a bad feeling. It wouldn’t go away after a minute, so he circled around the block, peeking up at the bridge from around a corner. Schlatt was walking to the center of the bridge, and when he reached it, he stopped. Bad feeling intensified, Wilbur got back on the bridge and sped up to get there just as Schlatt started climbing over the rails. The bad feeling turned into an all out panic. He parked, basically threw himself out of the car, and made a mad dash over to grab Schlatt before he could jump, wrapping his arms around his middle and pulling him back over the rails. Schlatt fought him for a second, before realizing who it was and freezing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Schlatt, what the fuck, you gave me a fucking heart attack!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You came back. Why did you come back?” Schlatt sounded empty. Wilbur hugged him tightly, making sure he didn’t try and jump again. Eventually, Wilbur pulled him up and over to his car, letting him get in before closing the door and getting in on the other side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why? Why would you do that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I dont… I, you… I don’t know how to explain.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you try?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have anything to go back to, Wilbur.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean? You have your family, your job…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wilbur, I dont have shit. My parents disowned me, I have been fired from my job, I have nothing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? Why did they disown you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no son of theirs will be a gay man.” Schlatt hissed, more to himself than to Wilbur. “It’s the same reason I didn’t want to come back, Wilbur! I knew that if they found out I was hanging around you again, I was a dead man. I was dying already, man, and you came back into my life and it was the best thing that could have happened to me, but now I just feel used! You dropped me the second Jared came back, Wilbur! You don’t care about me, you just care about your band! You treated me like shit for the past month, Wilbur! And yet I dropped everything for you. I gave everything up. I gave up my time for you, I gave up my health for you, I gave up my family for you, I gave up my job for you, I risked everything for you, Wilbur, and you fucking used me!” Schlatt’s face was a burning red, not with anger, but something more akin to sadness. His nose flared and his chin quivered, he was holding back the urge to cry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Schlatt…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I never told you my reasoning for some things because I was terrified! My parents already hated me, Wilbur! It was just a matter of time before they kicked me to the curb, but I didn’t think it would be like this! I have literally nothing, Wilbur, and I knew I would come out with nothing when I even went in, but I still went in! Because I can’t say no to you!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you left the first time…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because they found out I was in love with you, Wilbur. And they didn’t want their disgrace of a son to be seen with another man, so they made me cut ties with you. I was sixteen, what the fuck did you expect me to do?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But I thought you broke your wrist.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn’t break my wrist.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>They</span>
  </em>
  <span> did that for me. They gave me one warning, one try to quit the band, and then they took matters into their own hands.” Wilbur was in shock. They had been so terrible to him, how had he not seen?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could have told me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sure. Wilbur, my best friend since forever, who is currently dating Niki, another member of our garage band, I am in love with you. That’s gonna play out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“At least you still have us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, Wilbur. I don’t. I don’t have shit. You are only saying that to make me feel better. Earlier today, we were yelling and having a bitch fit just because I asked you a question! I have been calling out for help for this whole time I have been here, and not once did you notice.” His voice was thick with a forgotten desperation. “No one did. So no. I don't have you. I never did.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How have you been- the song. Oh, my god the song! It was literally in the lyrics and I didn’t even notice! Holy fuck, I am so sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, Wilbur. Can we not talk about this anymore? I’m already tired, it’s giving me a headache.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe don’t try to kill yourself then, next time,” Wilbur bit out. Schlatt shrunk back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry…” Schlatt breathed. Wilbur softened. Schlatt was in a fragile place right now, and Wilbur was only making it worse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m sorry. I’ve been a terrible friend. I don’t deserve you.” Schlatt mumbled something and tried to buckle his seatbelt, but hissed in pain. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My wrist. It bugs me occasionally where I broke it, it hasn’t been exceptionally happy with me as of late.” Wilbur remembered all the times that he tried grabbing at Schlatt, catching his wrist only for him to immediately pull away, well-hidden pain in his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I see it?” Schlatt hesitantly rolled his sleeves back, and when Wilbur saw Schlatt’s wrist, he gasped and gently grabbed Schlatt’s hand. “Holy fuck, it’s so swollen! How the fuck did you play the drums like this? Why didn’t you say anything?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t think you cared…” Schlatt whispered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Schlatt, I am so sorry that I gave off the impression that I didn’t care. I do. More than you know.” His feelings as of late suddenly started making sense. He had wanted to hate the man so much, but he couldn’t. He loved him too much for that. He just realized it too late.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah? How much.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I show you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… ah, fuck it. Yeah. Sure,” Schlatt said, voice wavering a bit. Wilbur put the armrests up, and leaned over to cup Schlatt’s face. He pulled him in for a tender kiss, eyes fluttering shut. Schlatt almost sighed against him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Woah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to do this just for me,” Schlatt murmured against his lips. “That’s the last thing I want for you… to feel pressured into anything…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m doing it for both of us. I want you just as much as you want me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really? Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So many reasons. You’re kind, you’re funny, you are the biggest simp I know, and you are so, so deserving of every good thing out there.” Wilbur kissed a different part of Schlatt’s face each time he listed one of the reasons, making the man giggle. He pulled him back in for a real kiss again, kissing him until they were both out of breath, kissing him until he felt tears going down the other man’s face. He pulled away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry. Ruining the moment,” The american wiped his face with a sleeve.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s the matter, Schlatt?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing, I just…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t deserve this. You.” Schlatt’s voice broke. Wilbur smiled gently, pulling him into a hug.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You deserve everything.” Wilbur pulled away, and Schlatt gave him a smile. “You look exhausted. When’s the last time you slept?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Last night.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When’s the last time you slept well?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… I don’t think you want the answer to that, Wil.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus fuck, Schlatt. Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I had a busy schedule. I told you I get up at like, five in the morning to be at work at six. We left the studio every night at like, two.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could have said something!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eeh, I was still functioning. I was fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well go get sleep.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fucking where, Wil?” Schlatt asked, exasperated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could stay at my place, if you’d like. At least until you get your own place.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no, I would feel bad for imposing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have you got anywhere else to go?” Wilbur quirked an eyebrow. Schlatt glared at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... I fucking hate you. Fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think you hate me that much.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re a dick.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They drove back to Wilbur’s house, listening to the radio. Wilbur couldn’t bring himself to sing along. It didn’t seem right. His friend had been hurting so much, partly because of him, and he hadn’t even noticed. Refused to even care. And then, when Schlatt gave such a simple request, to come and get him, he refused, making him use his favor. He really had been just the worst to Schlatt. They arrived at Wilbur’s house, and Wilbur walked Schlatt in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can have your favor back, by the way. I was an asshole and a bad friend, I should have just come and gotten you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no. That was the reason I asked for the favor anyway. I knew it would go downhill if they found out.” Wilbur went cold.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And then I basically sold you out, holy shit. I’m so sorry, Schlatt.” The American grabbed his arm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay. Trust me. I was ready for it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You shouldn’t have had to have been.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I still don’t want that favor back. I don’t care.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine. Whatever. Say, you never told me what your dad was getting arrested for.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He, ah, he pulled a gun on me, and apparently even my mom thought that was too far. He didn’t hit me, don’t worry. I mean, he tried, but he’s basically blind in his left eye. Got cataracts or some shit, I don’t care.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, wait. Back up. Your dad tried to shoot you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Pay attention, Wil,” he chuckled, blocking out the root of the issue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck? Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, he didn’t hit me. His aim is for shit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, like, mentally.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If I’m honest, probably not,” Schlatt looked away, joking tone gone. Wilbur rubbed his back, letting the conversation drop for a bit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur and Schlatt sat on Wilbur’s bed, listening to soft music. Schlatt absentmindedly taps his fingers with the beat of the drums, but not with the arm that hurt. Wilbur gets up and comes back with an ice pack. Schlatt puts it on his arm silently. Wilbur sits back down next to him, noting how Schlatt’s face is turned away from him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, you really did scare me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why did you loop back. You could have driven away, and then you wouldn’t have had to have been stuck with me. I dont even know why the fuck I called, I just… I didn't… the police lady didn’t want me walking home, and I didn't… I'm sorry. You were having fun at the party. I’m sorry I took you away from that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, it's okay, we’ve been over it. I was a dick lately, I should be the one apologising.” Wilbur pulls Schlatt into a hug. Schlatt’s head is tucked into his arm, and he didn’t hug back. It was okay. Wilbur could feel the shaking of the man’s shoulders, he could feel the empty cold that tried to pull Schlatt into the void.  Eventually, the silent crying stopped, and Schlatt didn’t pull away. Wilbur listened to him breathe. It was even, slow. He’d fallen asleep. Wilbur smiled. He probably really needed it. He gently lowered Schlatt to a lying down position, kissing away the remaining tears on his cheeks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur took Schlatt’s shoes off for him, then gently shifted him further up on the bed. It was easier than he thought it would be, the american didn’t weigh nearly enough for his height. As Wilbur basically tucked Schlatt in like a child, he thought about things that Schlatt told him. He had quite literally given everything for him, deeming Wilbur’s happiness more important than his own health. He put aside his sleep to juggle work and practice, probably not getting more than two hours a night. How had Wilbur not noticed? He looked so tired, even asleep. He exhaled softly in his sleep. Some of his fluffy hair fell into his face, and Wilbur gently brushed it away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a gentle knock at the door, and Techno poked his head into the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, we’re back. You take Schlatt home?” Techno asked. Wilbur came out into the hall, turning out the light to his room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Brought him back here. He had a bit of a rough night,” Wilbur explained.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I bet. The look his parents were giving him, hoo boy. Where’d you pick him up from?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The police station.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really? What’d he do?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t him. I’m gonna tell you because I trust you not to say anything, but I’m not gonna tell Tommy. It isn’t my business to spread.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Got it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Schlatt’s dad got arrested for pulling a gun on him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you serious?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He missed, don’t worry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is Schlatt okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Just really fucking tired,” Wilbur said. Techno nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I bet. Well, good night.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Night.” Techno went into his room, and Wilbur slipped into his own. He stared down at the sleeping man in his bed, watching him curl in on himself, cold despite the blankets covering him. Wilbur kicked off his shoes and crawled under the covers of his bed, letting Schlatt soak up his body heat. The american sighed in his sleep, curling up to the brit. Wilbur threw an arm around him and let his eyes fall shut.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He would be okay.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this was 25 pages and 8500 words. I hope you enjoyed it. I know I had fun writing it.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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